


The Fire Inside

by Art3misiA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Rare Pair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27602326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA
Summary: Each of us, at some point in our lives, stands at a crossroads. which path leads to ruination, and which to salvation?Sometimes, we don't know until we set out in our chosen direction.
Relationships: Vincent Crabbe/Hermione Granger
Comments: 29
Kudos: 29
Collections: Truth or Dare?





	The Fire Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Truth_or_Dare](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Truth_or_Dare) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Dare: (Restriction) Pairing must have less than 200 fics (according to AO3)
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Anne_Ammons!

* * *

Looking back, Vincent could say with assurance that those precious few months before Voldemort’s return were happiest of his life.

If he’d known before that it would come down to this moment, would he have made the same choices? Or would he have chosen the other path?

He was falling, the flames were closing in, rushing up to meet him, and—

_It was a few weeks into the third term of fourth year. He sat in the library, huddled in a corner, attempting to make himself as small as possible. Fat chance of that, but he tried, anyway. Draco would tease him mercilessly if he knew Vincent was actually attempting to study. He could hear the haughty blond’s voice in his head, mocking him._

_“Look at you, you great fat lump. Can you even understand half the words on the page, or do you need a dictionary? I bet you couldn’t even spell the word dictionary. I don’t know why you even bother to try. You know perfectly well that anything you do manage to understand will fly straight out of your head the moment you close that book.”_

_Truth be told, Vincent hated Draco. He was arrogant, cruel, and selfish - just like his father. If he’d had a choice, he wouldn’t be friends with the boy at all, but his parents insisted._

_“The Malfoys are powerful and influential,” his father had told him before he began his first year at Hogwarts. “Stick close to him, become his ally, and our family will reap the benefits of their esteem.”_

_Was he Draco’s ally? In a manner of speaking, he was, that is, if you considered being one half of the muscle Draco hid behind as such._

_Everyone thought he was thick, nearly as thick as Gregory. While it was true that he was terrible at lessons, he wasn’t entirely clueless. He knew Draco was using him and cared nothing for either of the two boys who flanked him wherever he went._

_Despite what Draco and everyone else said about his low levels of intelligence, Vincent wanted to pass his classes. He didn’t want to be kicked out of Hogwarts or to have to repeat a year. So here he was, trying desperately to learn while at the same time attempting to be invisible while doing it._

_He was doing his best to perform a summoning charm, and making a hash of it, as usual. Finally, Vincent threw his wand to the floor with a muttered curse, giving up on being able to call the quill that he’d placed on a nearby table._

_A pair of legs clad in black knee-length socks stopped where his wand had landed. Moments later, a hand was reaching down to pick it up. He watched the legs as they approached him._

_“Here, you dropped your—” he glanced up at the unmistakable sound of her voice, a scowl on his face. She took an involuntary step back, and her expression grew wary. He knew he should feel pleasure at having elicited such a reaction, but instead he felt—guilty?_

_Granger seemed to shake herself. She blinked and stepped forward again. “You dropped your wand, Crabbe.”_

_“I didn’t_ **_drop_ ** _it. I threw it. The thing’s fucking broken or something.” He snatched it out of her grasp, making her flinch slightly._

_“It didn’t feel broken to me. Are you having trouble? Maybe I could help y—”_

_“What’s it to you, Mudblood? And why would you want to help me? Fuck off.”_

_Her eyes momentarily misted at his harsh words, before a mask of cold indifference slipped over her face. “Fine, then. I’m sorry I asked.” She turned on her heel and began to walk away from him. Her heard her mutter under her breath, “Fucking Slytherin wanker.”_

_Hearing such crass language come out of such an innocent mouth, uttered in such a soft voice, was so shocking to Vincent that he couldn’t prevent the snort of laughter that escaped._

_Granger whirled, her eyes flashing and her hand going for her wand. “Something funny, Crabbe?”_

_“Yes, actually. Hearing someone like you use the words ‘fucking’ and ‘wanker’ is very funny.”_

_“Someone like me?” She echoed angrily. “What, you mean the filthy Mudblood?”_

_“No, I mean a goody-goody swot. I’d have thought even thinking those words would give you the horrors. Who knew you were capable of saying them?”_

_Her lips twitched, just for a moment, before the mask slipped back into place. “You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she said quietly. The warning in her tone made him uneasy. It shouldn’t have, because she was only a Mudblood, but it did._

_“What were you trying to do?” Granger asked again. “I really could help, you know.”_

_Vincent was silent, debating whether to engage her. He shouldn’t even be_ **_talking_ ** _to her. She was beneath him. But on the other hand, she was undeniably good at spells and did seem to like helping others, even if she could be concen-conden—whatever that word was when someone talked down to others._

_“I was attempting the Summoning Charm,” he said grudgingly, nodding towards the quill._

_“Oh.” she blinked. “Well—why don’t you show me your technique and pronunciation?”_

_Sighing, Vincent tightened his grip on his wand and focused. “Accio quill!”_

_Nothing happened, and he felt his face flame with embarrassment._

_“You've nearly got it, but your pronunciation isn’t quite right, and your wand movement is a bit stiff. May I demonstrate?”_

_He nodded and glanced up to watch her._

_“You’re pronouncing the spell as Ah-KEE-oh. It’s AK-ee-oh. The wand movement should be gentle and fluid, like this.” She swished her wand gracefully through the air. “Accio quill.”_

_The quill sailed gently across the table and landed in her outstretched palm. For a moment, Vincent fought the ridiculous urge to applaud. Then he scowled again. She made it look so easy_ **_._ ** _It obviously was for her, but not for him._

_“Right, your turn,” she said, bossily. “First, practice the incantation. AK-ee-oh.”_

_“Ak-hee-oh,” he muttered._

_“Again. AK-ee-oh.”_

_“AK-ee-oh.”_

_Her face brightened. “That’s it! Now keep saying it, get used to how it sounds.”_

_Vincent repeated the word a few more times. Suddenly, the incantation sounded and felt natural to his ears, instead of like some foreign language._

_“Now, the wand movement. It has two parts. A twirl, then a flick.” She showed him each movement in turn. “Practice the twirl first.”_

_He did it several times, until she nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Now the flick. Just a gentle movement, like you’re lifting your finger up in the air.”_

_Again, it took him a few attempts, but eventually he seemed to get the hang of it._

_“Now put the two movements together. Twirl, then flick.”_

_That part was hard, and he was almost ready to give up when finally, he got it._

_Granger smiled at him, a genuine smile that made his heart lift. “Are you ready to try combining the movement and the incantation? Practice the sound again, then summon the quill.”_

_He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them. “Accio quill.”_

_When it flew towards him, Vincent was so surprised that he dropped both it and his wand on the floor._

_“You did it!” Granger exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Well done, Crabbe!”_

_He glanced at her suspiciously, but she seemed to be genuinely pleased with him._

_“Um—thank you,” he said. An idea - a ridiculous one - popped into his head. “Would you—I mean, do you think—could you help me again? If I didn’t tell anyone?”_

_She raised an eyebrow at him. Surely she would laugh at him now. His heart sank, but then she nodded. “All right, I can help you. And you’re right, it’s probably best for both of us if we keep it between us.”_

_“How will we—?”_

_“We’ll meet here on Friday nights at eight thirty,” she said. “No one ever comes to the library on a Friday night, unless it’s right before exams.”_

_Over the next few months, Granger secretly tutored Vincent in Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions theory. With her help, he made enough progress in his lessons to be on track for earning Acceptable grades for the year._

_All too soon, it came crashing down, and when it did, so did the tentative friendship they had built. He didn't realise that he had developed feelings for her, but he had_ _. With Voldemort suddenly alive again, Vincent’s father had rejoined his master and ordered his son to pledge his loyalty to the Dark wizard, as well. He didn’t want to, but—_

_“I have no choice,” he whispered, unable to meet her eyes._

_“There’s_ **_always_ ** _a choice, Vincent!” she hissed, venom in her tone. “Voldemort is_ **_evil._ ** _You don’t have to join him. I can help you—”_

_“No one can help me!” he yelled, slamming his hands onto the table they were sitting at. “I have to do as my father commands.”_

_There was no way she could understand. Some things just were._

_“Then I have nothing more to say to you.” Granger stood and stormed away without looking back, and Vincent felt his chest constrict painfully. It was almost as bad as a Crucio;_ _why did it hurt so much? He dropped his head into his hands with an agonised groan, knowing he wouldn’t be able to undo the damage._

_She avoided him after that, and though he’d never admit it, he realised that he missed the time with her._

He hadn't even seen her this year, until today when she and her idiot friends showed up at the castle. He, Draco and Greg followed them to the Room of Requirement. Draco had grown weak over the past year. His loyalty was wavering, and everyone knew it. But Vincent knew the only way forward was to devote himself entirely to their master’s cause.

An idea came to him and he cast Fiendfyre. For a few moments, he was able to enjoy his success, before he realised he couldn’t control the churning flames. He raised his wand to cast the countercurse and froze in horror. _He couldn’t remember the spell!_ He was sure the Carrows had told the class what the incantation was, but he...hadn’t been paying attention. _What_ had possessed him to do it? _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Granger’s terrified scream snapped him out of his state of shock. Why was she even here? But he knew why - fucking Potter. He turned and ran. 

The flames were gaining. They were hungry, consuming everything in their path. He looked around desperately; he didn’t know where any of the others were. The inferno surrounded him. 

To his left was an untidy stack of junk. He dived towards it and began to scramble upwards, his breath coming in agonised gasps. Vincent climbed higher and higher, as the pile swayed dangerously. Straining, he managed to haul himself to the top.

The entire room was engulfed in fire and smoke. Through the haze, he could just make out what looked like figures on brooms near the far end of the room. 

“Help me!” 

He tried to scream, to wave, but the smoke filled his lungs and he began to cough. His perch shifted and he pinwheeled his arms, desperately trying to keep his balance. It gave a final lurch and crumbled beneath his feet, sending him tumbling towards the flames. He seemed to fall in slow motion; his descent was taking an age. He saw the brooms circling. They were making a final sweep. Were they searching for him? They were too late. 

Granger’s eyes locked on his and her mouth widened in shock. Was it concern he saw on her face? Did she care for him after all? After all this time, he knew he cared for her.

 _I love you, Hermione,_ he thought. _You were the only girl who was ever nice to me, and I fucked it all up._

Then the fire consumed him, and Vincent’s thoughts, and very being, ceased to exist.


End file.
